30 days and nights
by SilenceoftheLlamas
Summary: The 30 day OTP challenge. Rating varies chapter to chapter.
1. Chapter 1

**(The 30 day OTP challenge is calling to me. Days 1 &amp; 2!)**

* * *

Removing your armour, your solid defences to the outside world, was not something that was usually done. It was usually only done in medical emergencies, the soft protoform underneath quickly protected by a mock up of materials.

Over time, an exposed protoform had come to be associated the same way one would view an exposed human body - inappropriate. Even in private, it was almost an unthinkable thing to do.

And yet, there Jazz sat, not a single shred of armour to speak of cladding and protecting his body.

The soft glow of his spark could be seen, and Jazz tried to not look at it. He'd be reminded of just how _exposed_ he was, and his hand would twitch towards where his armour lay.

"If you're uncomfortable, it's okay to cover up again." The mech sitting opposite him said softly, optics half shuttering. Their doorwings twitched, betraying the agitation they also felt at being exposed like this. The vorn they had been at war for took their toll on everyone, and even during quiet periods no one completely relaxed.

"Ya're not lookin' too hot ya self, Prowler."

Prowl averted his optics. "I am not accustomed to being exposed like this."

"Figures." Jazz replied, shuffling to be a little closer. He held a hand out, hovering it over Prowls hand. Both were clasped to his knees. Jazz looked up at Prowl in questioning: can I?

Prowl nodded, allowing Jazz to touch his exposed body.

The first place Jazz gently explored were his hands. Never before had Jazz seen them without the armour that protected them, and never before had he realised that there were thick scars on the soft metal.

"Where'd ya get these from?" He quietly asked. Prowl was quiet for a moment before he replied.

"Some are from the armour, they're natural. Others I received as Praxus fell."

Jazz knew that their armour left scars. He too had them. The bigger the scar, the heavier the armour. They were perfectly normal to have.

And quickly glancing at the rest of Prowls body revealed that he had far too many to be just down to his armour.

"Are all of them 'cause a'that?" He couldn't help but ask.

"Yes."

"Ah'm sorry."

"No need. What's done is done."

Jazz was glad that Prowl didn't seem to be bothered by the fact his protoform was permanently scarred nor his questions.

He continued, running his hands up the length of Prowls forearm, fingers splaying out. With a child-like curiosity, he examined every single inch of Prowl, avoiding areas that were more private than others. When he was done, he simply nuzzled their noses together before sitting back down, pulling Prowls own hands back with him and placing them down on his thighs. "Ya can too, if ya want."

And Prowl did. He did not express the same child-like curiosity that Jazz did, however he held the same air that he did when he was holding something delicate and intensely important. He never applied much pressure at all, hands carefully mapping out the body underneath them.

The last place his hands reached was Jazz's face, and when he did he gently took hold of it before gently kissing Jazz on the lips.

And he melted into it.

Neither felt so anxious as before, settling down into the familiar comfort of the others presence. Jazz pulled the other closer, ignoring the foreign feeling of their protoforms rubbing together as he moved to lay on his back, pulling Prowl down with him.

If he had any complaints, Prowl didn't voice them.

"Is it okay if we just cuddle? Ah don' think Ah can do much more..." Jazz awkwardly asked, shuffling where he lay. Prowl simply let himself drop down beside Jazz and opened his arms in invitation.

"Wouldn't have expected you to. Truth be told, I'm amazed I got this far." Prowl replied as Jazz immediately cuddled up to Prowl, the doorwingers arms quickly wrapping around him whilst still leaving enough room for him to leave if he so desired.

"Have Ah ever told ya how much Ah love ya?" Jazz asked, tracing over a thick, jagged scar on Prowls abdomen.

"Many times." Prowl replied, gently rubbing circles on Jazz's back.

"Well, Ah do. So so much."

"As do I."

Jazz positively preened, leaning up to kiss his mate before snuggling back up to him.

As tired as the pair were, they couldn't allow themselves to recharge without their armour on, but the feel of having the other pressed so close was by far more attractive than the lull of sleep.

* * *

**Idk if ill do it in order or even do them at all - some are a bit difficult for me x3 but something to enjoy I guess?**

**~Llama**


	2. Chapter 2

**Day 4! Kinda nsfw too aha. Also, unless stated, all of these are part of the same story~**

* * *

Alone in his quarters, lights turned down with music pounding from his speakers, was Jazz.

If anyone were to walk in now, they would promptly visit Ratchet in the medical bay and ask to have their optical sensors and processors checked, for what he was doing was unconceivable for the crew.

Knees spread, one arm braced on the berth with the other in between his legs, two fingers buried within his valve and a heaving chest as he panted, face flushed and visor a deep blue.

And the kicker: he was moaning their SIC's name.

Many were under the impression that Jazz didn't get 'crushes', and that he simply had passing fancies. This was true back in his days in the academy, where he had gained himself a reputation of being a berth hopper. Not long after he had enlisted in the army did he stop, and there was but one reason for it.

Prowl.

The moment he had first seen the mech in the flesh, he was smitten. Pictures and videos did the mech no justice. They didn't capture the way he carried himself, nor the deep tremor of his voice as he spoke, or his cold and calculating optics.

It was a data burst from Blaster, a friend from his younglinghood, that reminded him he wasn't allowed to engage in any kind of relationship with Prowl that was beyond professional.

Unfortunately for Jazz, it appeared that his reputation had reached Prowl before Jazz did, and they didn't get off on the right foot to begin with.

However, with Jazz's charms and good humour, Prowl eventually warmed up to him.

And Jazz wondered why he'd let it get so far.

He wanted Prowl, badly. He'd get a tight sensation in his chest simply thinking about the mech, and it took a lot of concentration to focus on what the mech was actually /saying/, and not just his voice. But Primus his voice was perfect.

It was torture, not being able to have Prowl. They were friends, yes, however they weren't allowed to progress any further. Prowl himself had expressed to Jazz that their friendship was a one-off event as he had calculated the pros and cons, finding that it would be more beneficial than their previous relationship that was strictly professional. It was how he went on to say that he'd never allow it to go further that made Jazz's spark painfully twist in his chest.

Jazz had managed to convince himself that Prowl would enter a relationship with him, when it was a far cry from the truth. For why would Prowl, the SIC and CTO of the Autobots, the loyal right-hand man to the Prime, have a flicker of interest in Jazz?

The thought taunted him, and even in his dreams he could not escape.

With a loud, unrestrained cry of Prowls name, Jazz overloaded.

* * *

Contrary to popular belief, Prowl did have a spark, and did have emotions. He was simply unable to express them as well as everyone else.

So when he came across an emotion he was unfamiliar with he was stumped as to how to react, and he didn't like it. His entire functioning revolved around knowing what to do, categorising, and planning. When he came across something he didn't understand he worked hard to crack it.

But emotions were not a code that could simply be cracked and rewritten. They were an integral part of him, almost as important as the energon that flowed through his veins.

And he experienced this unknown emotion around Jazz.

He had come to associate it with the mech, and it was a thought that worried him. He enjoyed being in his company, and Jazz was one if the few mechs who had this honour. He didn't want to cut off one of the few friendships he had, but he didn't want it to spiral out of control and Jazz to develop feelings for him. Past experience had told him he was not mate material, many potential suitors being driven away by his stoic personality and thick walls he built around himself. Prowl didn't want to disappoint Jazz, and for his back to join the few others of those he'd allowed in.

Whenever he tried to analyse this unknown emotion, he would promptly fritz, processor crashing. It remained a mystery to him.

He had toyed with the thought of asking, but eventually decided that it was too awkward. He didn't feel close enough with anyone to ask, and while Jazz was a suitable candidate, it would be awkward to ask considering the emotion only arose around him.

But there was only so much he could handle.

After Ratchet kicked him out of the medbay with a few fresh dents in his helm from making himself crash again (although Ratchet would never know the reason why), Prowl had decided enough was enough. Ratchet was almost at his wits end trying to work out just why Prowl was crashing, and the medic didn't need the stress. He was going to talk to Jazz.

Approaching Jazz's quarters, the music was getting louder and louder and Prowl wondered if Jazz would even hear his knock on the door.

Nonetheless, Prowl would try, even if it was simply to settle his nerves.

Prowl leaning in towards the door, audial pressed against it as his hand hovered by the door ready to knock. He wanted to make sure it was audible, and what a better way than to be in contact with the source?

And that was when he heard it. His name being shouted out by Jazz. For a moment, Prowl thought that Jazz was calling him in, but there was something about the tone that told him he wasn't, and he knew Jazz shouldn't know he was standing right there. Jazz didn't know he was there. So why was he calling his name?

It took but a few seconds for what he had heard to sink in, and he promptly crashed. Ratchet would not be pleased.

* * *

**I realized that people might not know what the challenge is, so here ya go, all 30 days:**

**Cuddles (naked)**

**Kiss (naked)**

**First time**

**Masturbation**

**Blow job**

**Clothed getting off**

**Dressed/naked (half dressed)**

**Skype sex**

**Against the wall**

**Doggy style**

**Dom/sub**

**Fingering**

**Rimming**

**69**

**Sweet and passionate**

**In public place**

**On the floor**

**Morning lazy sex**

**Outdoors, woods, parks, gardens**

**Your own kink**

**Shower sex**

**On the desk**

**Trying new position**

**Shy**

**With toys**

**Boring sex**

**Rough, biting, scratch**

**Role playing**

**With food**

**Whatever you want**

**This should be… interesting****?**

**~Llama**


	3. Chapter 3

**Day 3! Sorry it took so long, real life dealt a blow to my face. Eep.**

**090909**

It most certainly hadn't been the first time they had been intimate together. The quiet nights spent curled together like cats while they listened to the rain as it pattered against the Ark, the much... _louder_ nights where simple tactile touches had brought overloads, and the simple yet treasured moments when both would sit in an office - usually Prowls, and share a cube of energon while both worked.

Many would turn their noses up at the thought of intimacy relating to anything other than getting in between another's legs, but neither Prowl nor Jazz understood why. The closeness was wonderful, and made everything just that little bit more bearable.

As it was, Jazz's hands were scrabbling for purchase on Prowl's back as the mech kissed his neck cabling, finally managing to latch on as Prowl nipped a fuel line. He quietly moaned, pulling Prowl closer.

The only thing different about this time, the thing that set it apart from the others?

Interfacing.

The pair had held back, knowing that it would be setting a bad example along with the simple fact Prowl had shown little interest. It was only when Jazz returned from a Decepticon base, battered and bruised after fighting his way out after a mission gone sour when Prowl realised that he needed to show Jazz he truly did care about him.

And what better way than some TLC?

"Prowler, ya know ya don't have ta" Jazz managed between gasps and moans. He was now mostly healed from his escapade, and Prowl was more than happy to completely pamper him until every last marking was gone.

"I want to." Prowl replied, voice muffled in Jazz's neck. A hand snaked down, gripping onto a thigh and pushing it up so it was hooked over Prowl's hip.

"Ya sure? Ya not just doin' this ta make me happy?" Jazz managed, barely restraining a pleasured groan as the movement of his thigh brushed their panels together. Say what you wanted about Prowl, but he definitely knew how to set Jazz's circuits on fire.

"Completely and utterly sure." Prowl replied, pressing kisses to Jazz's jaw as he caressed the seams in the other mechs hip. He was rewarded with a breathy groan as Jazz reached up and massaged Prowls doorwing hinges, sending out magnetic pulses every so often.

"J-Jazz!" Prowl gasped, arching upwards into his hands.

"Say tha' again." Jazz purred, moving his hands to run his fingers over the bottom edge, sending out yet more magnetic pulses.

Prowl made a strangled noise, torn between pressing into Jazz's hands or closer to Jazz's body. Another magnetic pulse had him crumpling, moaning the other mechs name again as his doorwings twitched and spasmed.

"Jazz, please- I'm gunna..." Prowl managed, pushing Jazz's hands away. Jazz pouted, his fun at making Prowl unravel over. Although, he supposed that this _did_ mean he wouldn't be cumming early and thoroughly embarrassing himself. His little ace was more sensitive than he let on.

But Jazz's hands did not fall above his helm as Prowls ministrations reduced him strutless, oh no. They were busy, dipping into seams, teasing cabling and tweaking the tips of his chevron. His lips were locked with Prowls as they swallowed the others moans, bodies writhing together like snakes.

It was with no hint of embarrassment when Jazz's panel opened, the growing heat and pressure becoming too much. He immediately set to grinding it against Prowls thigh, grinning at the little gasps and pants Prowl let slip as their lip-lock broke. It didn't take long for Prowls panel to open, his spike quickly pressurising. When Jazz reached down, Prowl quickly gathered the hand and kissed the knuckles, gently putting Jazz's leg back onto the berth and slowly moved down, leaving a burning trail of kisses until he reached Jazz's valve. Jazz's breath hitched, realising what was coming next as he spread his legs wider.

Prowl remembered every spot that drove Jazz _wild_, his glossa leaving no place untouched. His hands reached up to pin his hips down as he worked the valve with his mouth, licking and sucking on external nodes and the sensors that lined the rim.

"F-frag, Prowl!" Jazz called out, hands flying down to pull him closer and grab into his hand. His legs were trembling, the beginnings of an overload in sight.

It was Prowls fingers gently sliding in that made Jazz's grip go slack, visor flickering. When he began to gently scissor them was when Jazz knew that he wanted him, and _now_.

"Prowl, Ah swear down if ya do not frag me now Ah will not be happy." Jazz hissed, hips bucking. He felt more than heard the amused rumble Prowl gave as he slowly drew his fingers out, taking care to drag them over every node he could before he pressed a noisy kiss to his valve.

"As you wish." Prowl replied, making his way back up the length of his body before wrapping his arms around him and swiftly turning them over so that Jazz was straddling his waist.

Jazz placed his hands on Prowls chest for balance, lifting his hips before looking Prowl in the optic.

"Are ya sure?"

Many would find it hard to believe that even when panting, face flushed and cooling systems on full blast, both were still willing to stop if their partner was uncomfortable and wanted to stop. Both black and whites thought that it was strange when others didn't.

Prowl placed his hands on Jazz's hip, rubbing circles with his thumbs. "Very." He replied, optics flickering between Jazz's face and his lubricant coated thighs.

He wondered what it would be like to be buried in between them, to have Jazz's thighs clamp down on either side of him as he lost himself-

Prowl didn't realise that his cooling fans had kicked up another notch at the images he was creating in his head, and neither had Jazz. He could barely hear himself over his own.

With a needy moan, Jazz slowly lowered himself onto Prowls spike, not stopping until their hips met.

Prowls hands clenched and unclenched, torn between watching Jazz's face as he bit his lip in a bid to stay as quiet as possible and watching as he slowly slid into Jazz. He ended up watching Jazz, deciding that there would always be other times for the latter.

Primus, he was beautiful.

Prowl would never understand why Jazz had chosen _him_ when he had free pickings of every mech on the Ark. Even when he had discovered Prowl was asexual he never strayed, rejecting Prowls offer of seeing other mechs to satisfy all of his needs.

But as it currently stood, Prowl had buckled to his own desires and had a very happy and turned on Jazz on his lap.

Slowly, Jazz lifted his hips and slowly began to rise off the spike, sliding back down again when only the head was left inside. Prowl groaned, optics darkening even further as his grip tightened.

Jazz set a rhythm, keeping it slow and gentle for the time being. Prowl began to match it, meeting Jazz half way. Neither bothered to try and bite down or smother their moans - if anyone heard, so be it. It was no secret that the pair were together by any means, they were certain that the entire Autobot army knew. All it took was one slip-up in the medical bay.

But that was a story for another time.

It wasn't so much as thrusting as it was rocking together, grinding against the other in a slow erotic torture. Despite himself, Prowl found that he didn't want this to be the only time. He had loved the way Jazz's face lit up after the quietly murmured suggestion, how he had excitedly dragged him into the berthroom only to pull him on top of himself, offering himself over to Prowl. The cute noises he made, and the faces that accompanied them.

That, and the fact it felt _good_. He liked making Jazz feel this way.

It was Jazz who decided that their previous pace was boring, and quickly sped up, not allowing Prowl to force him to go slow.

Not that Prowl would have, his hips bucked at the change in pace, hands adjusting themselves as he held onto Jazz tighter.

Prowl's spike hit all of the right places, and it wasn't long before Jazz began to come apart, quickly losing his rhythm as his helm fell back and back arched, thighs violently trembling as his hands clenched and scratched away the paint on Prowls midsection.

There was a tight pressure in Prowls abdomen, and he knew what was coming next. With one particularly hard thrust, Jazz was shoved over the edge and he _screamed_ Prowls name, as static laden as his voice was. His legs tightened over Prowls hips as his back arched almost painfully. Prowl could only watch, not even thinking as he began a video capture before he was finally pushed over the edge too.

**090909**

Prowl didn't remember cleaning up and cuddling up to Jazz, but he had, and was absently rubbing his back.

"Ya sure ya haven't done that often? 'Cause mech, _damn_ that was one of the best overloads Ah've ever had." Jazz asked, pulling away from where he was leaning against Prowls chest.

"I am flattered." Prowl replied, glad that he hasn't disappointed Jazz. The fact that they could now truly refer to the other as their lover was something that warmed Prowl to the core. "I can improve on that, if you'd like." He murmured, cheekily wiggling his eye ridges. Jazz squeaked, interest significantly perked.

"Very much, Prowler."

Prowl allowed himself a small smile and kissed his forehelm, allowing Jazz to snuggle in closer before shuttering his optics. He wasn't willing to recharge just yet, still wanting to savour the feeling of the other mech up against him. It didn't take long for the sound of rain pattering against the metal shell of the Ark to register, and the pair were soon lulled into recharge by the gentle sound.

**090909**

**I don't think I've come across an asexual Prowl before? He always struck me as being that way, but I never wrote it 'cause it felt like I was forcing my own orientation into it (don't look at me like that I know D:) buuuuuttt representation kids, it's important.**

**If anyone has any questions on ace's feel free to ask, ill answer to the best of my ability.**

**~Llama**


	4. Chapter 4

**Day 7!**

* * *

Prowl frowned as he looked at himself in the mirror.

Now, do not be mistaken for he was by no means a vain person. No, that was Sunstreaker and Tracks. Prowl was far from it. He didn't care what he looked like - so long as it was presentable and upheld the respect he demanded as SIC he was satisfied.

But his scars were bothering him.

The armour that protected his chest had been removed, heavily scarred protoform underneath revealed. Long gashes carved grooves over his chest, narrowly missing his spark, and the metal had gained a puckered texture where high temperatures had melted and distorted it.

His fingers traced over them, continuing even as his armour was in the way. It was all committed to memory, a mental map in his mind of where every scar, every marking, and distortion was.

His fingers hooked in the latches to his shoulder armour, and soon it had joined his chest armour on the floor. Prowl was amazed his right shoulder was still functional, what with how hard he had fell and impaled himself on shrapnel during the chaos of the fall. He had Ratchet to thank for that, although the tell-tale scars still remained.

Even though Jazz didn't seem bothered by his scars, and even seemed to /like/ them, Prowl wasn't sure how much of it was an act and how much was genuine. It left a sick feeling in his tank to think that he couldn't trust Jazz even after all they had been through together.

So lost in his thoughts as he was, he didn't notice that Jazz was in the immediate vicinity until his hands snaked around his waist, elbows resting on his hips.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"It's nothing." Prowl replied, releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding and placing his hand over Jazz's. "When did you get back?" He asked as he turned around to face Jazz, arms looping around his neck.

"Couple secs ago. An' ya really think Ah'm gunna fall for tha'? Talk ta me."

"It's just my scars."

Jazz frowned. "Do they hurt?"

"No, they stopped hurting vorn ago." Prowl dismissed, waving his hand. "They're just bothering me."

"Ah like 'em." Jazz hummed, visor flicking towards his shoulder. "Even if they look painful."

"You sure?" Prowl quietly asked. His optics weren't looking at Jazz - he was staring directly at the wall in front if himself.

"Ah love every single one'a em." Jazz confirmed, placing a noisy kiss to one on his chest for emphasis. "Ah wanna learn them inside out."

Jazz almost missed how Prowls expression softened.

* * *

**Short I know I know - muse stopped cooperating. Sorry.**

**Also forgot I had this in my emails for a week, oh dear.**

**~Llama**


	5. Chapter 5

**Day 11 &amp; 6**

**Bdsm/Dom&amp;Sub &amp;&amp; clothed getting off**

**I'm horrifically inexperienced in the realm of bdsm, so if I need to fix anything please let me know!**

* * *

Good grief, now Jazz was just delectable. Prowl ran his hands down Jazz's sides as he thrust into him, taking care to note where the wax he'd poured over him earlier was. Jazz liked picking it off after, he'd need to make sure he didn't accidentally knock it off.

Hands clenched and back arched, a muffled moan spilling from Jazz's mouth. Oral lubricants beaded around the ball gag in his mouth, his legs hooking around Prowls.

And he came.

Prowl couldn't help but be dragged along with it, gasping despite his attempts to keep his cool. But, heck, Jazz felt amazing.

Jazz was trembling, chest heaving. How many times had he overloaded now? Far more than Prowl, that was certain - his dom liked to take care of him like that - but now he was just exhausted. Unsure if he could take anymore, he shakily put up two fingers. Their agreed safe word.

Prowl immediately noticed it.

He immediately stopped what he was doing - which was making to grab a toy from the side - and undid the gag, pressing a kiss to Jazz's forehead. Giving him a moment to catch his breath, Prowl asked if he was okay.

"Nod if you're okay, Jazz." He gently said, removing the bindings on the other mech's wrists. Jazz nodded, visor flickering.

"Can you talk yet?"

Jazz shook his head. Prowl nodded, reaching down to pick up the tatty blanket that for some reason Jazz liked (although he'd never understand), and quickly cleaned Jazz with a rag before wrapping him up in the blanket and carrying him bridal style into the living area.

"I found some old movies," Prowl began, sitting down with Jazz in his lap, "I thought you might like them."

Jazz leaned back against him, nuzzling against his chin appreciatively. His mouth still felt sore, but the rest of him felt fantastic, if a little heavy.

"Thank ya." Jazz finally said, beginning to pick the wax from his frame. It still smelled like Strawberries.

Prowl kissed his audial horn as the first movie started, Jazz settling more comfortably against Prowl. He quietly hissed when he sat awkwardly, agitating something inside him. Prowl was immediately concerned.

"Jazz, are you alright?"

"Ah'm fine, jus' a lil sore." He replied. "Do you want me to get you some ice?" Prowl asked, hands massaging his sides. Jazz purred and pushed into his hands as he contemplated the question.

"Not righ' now, it'll ruin the afterglow." Jazz replied, pressing little kisses onto Prowls jaw. "Ah wanna feel it for as long as possible."

Prowl barely suppressed a shudder. "As you wish."

They watched the movie, temperatures and spark beats eventually returning to normal. Jazz was leaning heavily against Prowl, picking off the wax and fiddling with the edge of the blanket. Prowl had been right - Jazz enjoyed the movie. Every twist and turn had him on the edge of his seat, and he sung along to the credits song. Prowl didn't mind at all, he simply closed his optics and listened.

As the song ended and the credits continued to roll, Prowl nuzzled the back of Jazz's head. "So. Jazz."

"Mmhm?" Jazz sleepily replied, fiddling with Prowls fingers.

"Talk to me."

Jazz moved to be sitting astride Prowls lap, tucking his helm into Prowls shoulder. "Ah didn't think Ah could manage continuin'" Jazz replied, tracing patterns into Prowls chest. "Ah was so exhausted. Felt _great_, but... Tirin'."

"I'm glad you're okay." Prowl replied, holding him closer as the movies title screen came up. "Is there anything..?"

Jazz laughed, wrapping his arms around Prowls neck. "How about, next time, ya treat me like ya lil' sweetheart, all innocent an' shy."

Prowl let a laugh slip out - Jazz was anything but innocent.

"Oh, but _Jazz_," Prowl began, grinning, "you already _are_ my innocent little sweetheart."

Jazz playfully pinched him. "Ah hear that sarcasm, Prowler."

"Hmm." Prowl kissed him on the lips. A moment later, Jazz yawned.

"Ready for recharge?" Prowl asked. Jazz sleepily nodded, absently rubbing at his optics.

"Okay, just give me a moment to clear up."

Prowl gently put Jazz down onto the sofa, made sure he was comfortable and walked into the berth room. Jazz sent the command for the video player to shut down, and watched Prowl through the doorway as he packed everything away and made sure the berth was clean.

Prowl, now satisfied, came back to Jazz and scooped him up. Both were pretty sure Jazz could walk by himself now, but was Jazz going to deny both himself and Prowl the pleasure? Not likely. Laying him down on the berth, Prowl joined him and pulled the covers over them.

"Ah love ya." Jazz sighed as he curled into Prowl, legs tangling with each other as his hands found places to latch onto.

"I love you too." Prowl replied, kissing his forehelm again before cuddling him back, optics offlining. Primus, words couldn't describe how much he loved the mech in his arms.

* * *

Oh, Jazz was _devious_.

The mech hummed as he adjusted the fabric of his dress.

A week ago, Carly had shown the mech's of the Ark a movie from the 50's. Something in their style of clothing had clearly caught Jazz's optics, as now he had managed to find himself enough matching fabric to make himself something. Clearly, he had spiced it up a little as it wasn't _nearly_ as long as Prowl remembered the dresses being.

"A little risqué." Prowl commented as he walked past, tips of his fingers brushing against the bottom. "You'll be beating them off with a stick."

Jazz laughed, capturing Prowls hand and kissing the knuckles. "Not with ya there ta scare 'em away, Prowler." He replied, fastening a bow tie that matched his dress around Prowls neck. "Is this loose enough?"

"A little tighter - what is it?"

"A bow tie ta make ya look dapper." Jazz replied, standing back to appreciate his work. "An' we'll match!"

Prowl glanced at Jazz's floral blue dress, and found a mirror to look at himself in.

"I feel as though I am lacking." Prowl replied.

"Nah, ya fine. Come on, they'll be waitin'."

Today marked the first day of spring, and to celebrate it Blaster and Jazz had conspired, which never boded well, and a party was born. Jazz, of course, had suggested it be 50's themed.

Queue the 50's music and dancing, put the movies into the projectors, the Ark is waiting.

Prowl liked to arrive early so as to not make a scene, while Jazz liked to make a spectacular entrance. They compromised - Prowl would arrive first, and entertain himself with a datapad and a cube of mid-grade before Jazz waltzed in.

It gave Prowl a chance to listen in on the gossip, too. Usually he paid no mind to it, but lately he'd been hearing mech's take bets on just who Jazz was fragging.

Prowl smirked into his cube. He knew the answer, but would he enlighten them? Not likely.

Jazz made his entrance, earning himself wolf whistles and cheers from some already overcharged mechs. After politely declining a slurred invite to go 'somewhere more private', Jazz slipped into the booth with Prowl.

"Heya, handsome." Jazz greeted, head in hand. "Ya look awful lonely."

"You could say that." Prowl replied, hand on table. Jazz placed his other hand on top of it, letting Prowl link their fingers together as he continued to read.

Truthfully, his tanks were in knots. Usually, Jazz would find other dance partners due to Prowls two left feet, _and_ the fact they wanted to keep their relationship private. But today? He didn't want anyone but himself to dance with Jazz.

An upbeat song came on, and Jazz immediately looked longingly at the speakers. He'd feel bad for leaving Prowl, but...

Prowl surprised him. He stood up, hands still linked, and subspaced his datapad.

"Care to dance?" He asked, his mouth dry. It felt like he'd swallowed sawdust.

Jazz looked delighted, kissing him on the lips with an excited "Yes!" And dragging him to the dance floor.

Two left feet, two left feet.

But apparently, Prowl just simply wasn't dancing in a style that suited him. It was usually boxy, dead and lifeless - too calculated.

But the jitterbug? Well, it was very easy to lose yourself in it.

Jazz had expected to watch his feet, making sure they didn't get stepped on by the klutz, but he didn't have to.

As soon as it was over, the pair had to stop themselves from full-on kissing the other. To outsiders, they were friends - very close friends - and they had intended to keep it that way, but...

Jazz trembled before letting Prowl slip back to the booth.

... Aw, screw it. Jazz followed him.

Tucked away in the corner, they were unseen. If anyone was coming, they'd know, but otherwise they were hidden away and so in their own little private bubble.

"Ah never knew ya could do tha'." Jazz said as he sat opposite him.

"Me neither. I had expected to step on you." Prowl replied, another cube in hand. He offered it to Jazz before taking a sip himself.

Jazz moved the cube to the side, kissing Prowl on the lips. He could taste the energon.

"Primus, Ah want ya." Jazz gasped against his lips. "Ya've been teasin' me all week."

"Have I, now?" Prowl replied, giving Jazz a small tug. The mech crawled over the table and straddled Prowls lap, the cube nearly spilling. Prowls hands immediately went to the exposed thighs, brushing against the bottom of the tight dress. "You're the one in the short, tight dress."

"Hmm, Ah wonder why?" Jazz replied, pressing into Prowls hands as they went under the skirt of his dress.

"Because you are a tease." Prowl replied, punctuating every word with a kiss on Jazz's jawline.

"True, true." Jazz replied, leaning into Prowl. "But Ah'm not the one promisin' a good night an' then not deliverin'."

Oh, _ouch_. Prowl's hands tightened. In private, he knew exactly what that comment was an invite for, but in public... Well, his limits were in stone, and he wasn't about to push them. Jazz was supposed to _trust_ him, not fear his next move.

"Oh?" Prowl replied, tilting his helm slightly as he dimmed his optics. "What's to say the moment simply hadn't arrived?"

"When will it?" Jazz quietly asked, looking down. Prowl felt guilty - had he been neglecting him?

"Tonight," Prowl began, cupping Jazz's cheek, "because you're my sweetheart."

Jazz's smile could have lit up the sky.

"Ya so cheesy." He replied, kissing him none the less. "So, so cheesy."

"I was merely quoting you." Prowl replied.

"Ah know."

Footsteps made Jazz quickly jump from Prowls lap and into the seat next to him. They shared a glance with each other before quickly striking up a random conversation.

"Did ya ever catch who switched out the soap for glue?" Jazz asked. Their go-to - recent pranks.

"No, not yet. Unless you know anything? Oh, speak of the devil... Hello, Sideswipe."

Jazz flashed a cheesy grin and waved at him. Sideswipe waved back.

"Sup guys? Blue wants to know if you're up for a round of cards. No Smokescreen involved."

"Sounds good ta me!" Jazz said, glancing at Prowl. This set back their plans...

"I may join you for a short while." Prowl replied.

"Cool! I'll see you in a bit." Sideswipe trotted away, rounding up more of his friends.

"We keep gettin' set back." Jazz mumbled, a little annoyed.

"Don't worry, we won't stay for too long." Prowl replied. "I'll leave before, it'll be less suspicious."

"Sure thang." Jazz replied, kissing him before standing up. "Ah'll try an' win for us." He winked.

"Don't traumatise them into never playing again." Prowl replied.

"Ah'd never!"

The two hunted down Bluestreak, sliding into opposite chairs.

"Unfortunately, I can't stay for long tonight." Prowl apologised to Bluestreak, "I've got the first shift."

"That's fine!" Bluestreak happily replied. "It's the same for Sunny and Sides."

The table filled, and soon everyone was sat with a handful of cards.

* * *

Prowl excused himself and left for his quarters.

Jazz wouldn't be too far behind, but not too close either. He had time to prepare. The berth was made, the blanket folded and put into the cooling unit so it could chill and not get too warm.

While he didn't intend on doing a scene, if Jazz wanted one... It was best to be prepared. Besides, Jazz liked to recharge with that blanket. Who was he to deny him that?

"Expecting someone?"

Prowl jumped and looked up to see Jazz leaning against the doorframe, hips cocked confidently. "They must be pretty special."

"Oh, they are." Prowl replied, putting away the empty cubes that sat upside down on the draining board. "Special indeed."

Jazz entered the other mech's quarters, allowing the door to slide shut behind him. "So, what's the plan?"

"You," Prowl replied, jabbing a finger at Jazz, "get something to eat. I didn't see you touch a single thing while we were at the party."

"Fine, fine." Jazz replied, pecking Prowls cheek as he grabbed an empty cube and filled it at the private dispenser. "How much have ya got left of this stuff?"

"Enough for now." Prowl replied. The main reason he had a private one was to prevent him from becoming poisoned, and in the event that he was, he'd be the only one affected. It took a lot of fighting for, but Prowl eventually got it.

Jazz made a show of showing he was done. The cube was turned upside down and given a little shake. No fluid came out.

"Finished?" Prowl asked, relieving him of the empty cube. Jazz nodded, swallowing audibly. "Good."

"Come on, Prowler." Jazz said, backing him up against the side, placing his hands either side of him. "Ya've always got somethin' planned."

"Sometimes it's the spontaneous ones that are the best ones, no?" Prowl replied. "I have nothing planned."

Jazz leaned up on the tips of his pedes and kissed him on the lips. "Okay, Prowler."

"Was there anything in particular that you wanted?"

Jazz shook his head. "Nope. Just you, an' some good ol' fashioned vanilla..."

"You're so crude." Prowl replied, cheeks flushing slightly.

"You love it."

"Hmm."

"No?"

"No comment."

"Ah'll take that as a yes then." Jazz decided.

* * *

**Holy _shit muffins_ has it _really_ been that long?! When I started this I thought 'yeah I can do this... It'll be a good challenge to get me back into the swing of it!'**

**_NOT_. Clearly.**

**I'm so sorry! Unfortunately I can't say when the next one will be out, and my tumblr prediction was a thing of _lies_ and _deceit_. I promise the mentioned titles will be updated though, hopefully before uni starts (it's time for me to start screeching already apparently) but I make no promises. I'm a bad writer, I'll go sit in my shame corner.**

**Let me know what you thought!**

**~Llama**


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